


a burden, but not a mistake

by rarmaster



Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Gen, and about the past, and the life he missed, honestly this is Incredibly Kratos Centric to the point where even tagging lloyd is strange, kratos has a lot of thoughts about his son, the rest of the party is here but they barely talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 08:15:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14745194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarmaster/pseuds/rarmaster
Summary: Lloyd joins the party.Or: the events of Triet, from Kratos' pov.





	a burden, but not a mistake

**Author's Note:**

> to give credit where credit is due: the two middle scenes are adapted from skits / actual in-game dialogue, and the final scene is an adaption from the OVA. I think I stole Raine's line straight from it so I felt a little guilty not mentioning that alskjfsdf,

“Colette!! Heeeeyyy!” came a voice

Kratos and his companions stopped walking. They weren’t that far outside of Triet. The Chosen instantly lit up with excitement as she spun around to face who had called to them. Kratos—as per his job description—should have been worried, but he recognized the voice. It was Raine’s little brother, Genis.

Raine stepped forward to scold her brother, but Kratos only half-listened. It wasn’t any of his business, and sometimes listening to the Sage siblings interact stirred too many emotions in his chest, so… Besides, Noishe had come up to him, furiously pushing his head into Kratos’ palm. Kratos gave in and scratched Noishe behind the ears. No one was watching, and he’d missed the Protozoan.

Kratos’ heart fluttered in his chest, with discomfort and excitement both. If Genis had followed them this far, and Noishe with him, then Lloyd should have…

Noishe turned his head to bite Kratos’ fingers—gently, but combined with an urgent tug.

“That’s just it!” Genis said. “Lloyd’s in danger!”

Kratos’ heart stopped.

“What?” he snapped, maybe a little too urgently, a little too furiously, but he could hardly breathe.

Genis flinched a little bit under his gaze. “Some Desians kidnapped him,” he explained rapidly. “I managed to convince them to let me go, but—”

Noishe tugged again, and this time Kratos followed. He didn’t need to know any more. There wasn’t any more to know. Lloyd—his _son_ —had gotten himself kidnapped by Desians and Kratos wasn’t just going to stand there and do _nothing_ about it. Would it have been better to wait, just a few seconds, for Colette to beg for Lloyd’s rescue? Yes, but it was too late. His feet were already moving. He trusted Noishe to know the way.

“Thank you, Mr. Kratos!” the Chosen said, jogging to keep up with him. “I know it’s out of the way, but we can’t just leave Lloyd…”

“I know,” Kratos answered. He hoped neither Raine nor Genis read too much into his actions. If they were anything like the Yggdrasill siblings—

Frustration bubbled in his chest, as he put one foot in front of the other. He did not believe in a god—how could he, when he had helped create the very world he stood in?—but moments like these made him wonder if there _was_ some kind of higher power out there, one that happened to enjoy causing him trouble just for a laugh. He had been grateful, that Colette had wanted to leave Lloyd behind, because though he wanted to travel with his son, it was for the best he did not. Except now Lloyd was in danger. Caught by Desians. No surprise, since they were probably still after Anna’s exsphere. And because terror at the thought of losing his son again gripped his chest too tightly, he’d likely blown his cover.

As it was, while Colette and Genis ran a little bit ahead, following Noishe, Raine came up beside Kratos. Kratos had half a mind to just ignore her rather than engage in conversation, but that might give him away even further.

“I would have expected you to need more convincing,” Raine said.

Kratos suppressed a sigh.

“Do you wish to leave your student in the hands of the Desians?” he answered, keeping his voice carefully dispassionate.

“Well, no,” Raine admitted. She sent a cautious glance up at him. Kratos turned his face away. “But we didn’t even need to ask.”

Kratos hesitated, as he searched for a halfway decent excuse. “Colette did ask,” he said.

Raine scowled. “She did not.”

“I saw her face. That was enough of a plea.” It was a lie, because Kratos had seen nothing but the desert before him as Noishe pulled him towards rescuing Lloyd, but if Raine remembered that then _fine,_ she could take his secret. “Besides,” Kratos continued, “it was not hard to figure that the three of you would not have let me take another course, so why waste the time arguing?”

Time was precious. How long before they just killed Lloyd to take the exsphere? How had they not already? Kratos’ couldn’t remember if Genis had mentioned how long they’d had Lloyd—if it was the Desians from Iselia, then it had to have at least been a day—but knowing wasn’t going to make the anxiety in his chest subside, so Kratos didn’t see the point in asking. If Lloyd was dead… well, he’d cross that bridge when he got there.

“Alright,” Raine relented, though she didn’t sound happy about it. “What about Noishe, though?” she pressed. “He seems awfully fond of you.”

“I made the mistake of feeding him once,” Kratos answered without hesitation. It was the truth, though that ‘once’ had been a couple thousand years ago, when Noishe had been a creature that looked more like a bird. “He likely hopes I’ll give him more treats.”

“Hmm.” Raine didn’t seem satisfied with that either, but that was all Kratos was going to give her.

Whatever power was out there, Kratos hoped it was having a _real_ good laugh.

 

 

It was the Renegades who had kidnapped Lloyd, and not the Desians, so there was small comfort in that, as they navigated the base. (Kratos had a pretty good idea of where to go, but it had been a few years since he had last set foot in this place, and last time Yuan had shown him the way, so he was happy to let Raine play her roll in hacking the system to give them a map and then secure a route out.) (Kratos had no idea what Yuan wanted with Lloyd, but he was confident enough that killing Lloyd wasn’t it. He wanted to punch Yuan in the face, though. Honestly. Kidnapping his _son_?)

They didn’t find Yuan, which was probably for the best (that would have blown Kratos’ cover for sure). Instead, it was Yuan’s second-in-command that was cornering Lloyd in a room that definitely belonged to Yuan, based on its decorations. Lloyd was blessedly unharmed. Kratos still pulled less punches than he should have.

The walk back to Triet—because they all needed a good rest in some real beds before heading out to the First Seal—definitely felt like a strong contender for one of the most awkward moments of Kratos’ life. Walking and fighting beside Lloyd back at the temple in Iselia had been a little uncomfortable (though honestly Kratos had been too busy reeling in the fact his son was _alive_ to have paid much attention to it) but this walk was different, mostly because it was _longer,_ and it was an _empty_ _desert,_ which meant the conversation Lloyd and Colette were having dwindled off into silence before long and then somehow— _some_ how—he was walking alongside Lloyd and. Now what was he supposed to do.

The overwhelming urge to say something came to life within him, and so that was how Kratos found himself speaking his son’s name.

“Lloyd?”

Lloyd sent a curious but playful look back at Kratos, Anna in every inch of his smile and the slightly exasperated glint in his eyes, even though he could not have practiced that smile off her face. In the glaring light of the desert, Lloyd’s eyes looked more red than brown. Kratos tried not to be winded.

“Yeah?” Lloyd asked, hands behind his head and barely slowing down to better carry a conversation.

“About that fight, earlier,” Kratos said, because there wasn’t much else to talk about, but he wanted to talk about _something_.

Lloyd rolled his eyes, the exasperation in his tone now edging towards annoyance. “You gonna tell me I got in the way, huh?”

Kratos remembered he was supposed to be playing the role of an aloof mercenary, so he changed his tone. “You weren’t bad. It looks like you’ve improved a little.” The praise was meant to come off as begrudging, but really—for someone who had learned to use not one sword, but _two,_ on his own? Lloyd was doing fantastic for his age. Kratos couldn’t be prouder.

“Eh?” Lloyd sounded surprised.

“If you understand your skills, and those of your enemies, you could fight more efficiently, though,” Kratos continued. He ended up rattling off various advice past that for a little while, caught up in wanting to make sure his son knew enough to not get himself killed by rookie mistakes. He had not given advice on fighting in ages, because there hadn’t really been anyone to pass his knowledge onto. Doing it again was… kind of nice?

But then he realized the weight of Lloyd’s gaze on him, and realized how long he’d been talking, and maybe this all would just sound like a man who was passionate enough about his craft to pass the knowledge along to an interested party—or perhaps like a mercenary who didn’t want a companion who’d be a liability—but in case it had started to sound like anything else, Kratos hastily ended with what he felt was most important of all:

“Don’t forget that learning also leads to strength.”

And then he shut his mouth.

“Kratos…” Lloyd said, and he looked kind of surprised, a little bit in awe. Like he hadn’t expected that at all.

The expression aimed at him stirred up a lot of things in Kratos’ chest that he wasn’t exactly comfortable feeling, so he put a hand to his face and turned a little away from Lloyd.

“I’ve spent too much time talking,” he said, by way of apology. “Let’s get going. There’s no time to dawdle.”

Genis and Raine and Colette were a ways ahead of them now. They really needed to catch up.

 

 

“Shouldn’t you be going to bed?” Kratos asked, as Lloyd started digging tools out of his bag. How he’d ended up sharing a room with Lloyd and only just Lloyd he wasn’t sure, but it was too late to make any kind of reasonable fuss about it. It wasn’t going to kill him, anyway.

“I will in a minute! I promised the Professor I’d have this done by morning, and it’ll only take a second,” Lloyd answered. He sat cross-legged on his bed, bending over the damaged key crest to work on it. Kratos wondered why he chose to work in his bed instead of the perfectly good desk over in the corner of the room, but didn’t have the courage to ask.

So instead Kratos just sat down on the edge of his own bed and watched his son work.

Lloyd gave the key crest an undivided attention that Kratos hadn’t seen much from him before now, and it was… fascinating. A little familiar, too. Like watching Anna cook, muttering to herself as she chopped potatoes, so intent on the task that she didn’t see Kratos nicking tomato slices off the counter and discarding them so that he’d have to eat less of them.

Kratos wondered if Lloyd hated tomatoes, too.

He ached to know all of the things about his son he hadn’t spent the last fifteen years learning, but knew that as long as he was presenting himself as the party’s mercenary companion, he had no right to ask any of those questions. Even as Lloyd’s father, maybe he didn’t have the right. He should already know these things, but he didn’t, because he’d been absent. So how did he have the right to ask?

Kratos closed his eyes, breathing deeply, as if he could dispel the thoughts in his mind simply by exhaling them through his mouth. The sound of Lloyd’s work was comforting. Nostalgia filled Kratos’ chest to bursting, but he had no right wishing for a life he’d abandoned, either.

Some ten, twenty minutes later, the sounds of Lloyd working on the key crest faded, were replaced by the creak of the bed as Lloyd displaced his weight. Kratos opened his eyes. Spoke before he could catch himself.

“If you’re done working, you should go to bed soon,” he said.

Lloyd gave him a funny little look. “Sure, sure. I’m just gonna go give this to the Professor real quick, before I forget.”

Kratos wanted to stress the importance of a good night’s rest before their journey tomorrow, but that was a father’s place, not a mercenary’s. So he kept his mouth shut and let Lloyd leave the room.

It was after a few minutes that he realized if Lloyd was going to spend _this_ much time talking to Raine, perhaps he should go talk to Noishe. The Protozoan was probably a little offended his old master had barely said three words to him. And he should warn Noishe not to blow his cover.

So, Kratos headed out to visit Noishe in the stables.

Noishe’s ears perked up at the sight of him. Kratos reached through the crude bars of the stable to run his hands through Noishe’s fur, fingers automatically finding knots and picking them out. Even after 15 years of being away, a couple thousand years of habit was hard to break. At least Noishe didn’t mind his fur being tangled as much as he’d hated his feathers being ruffled. Most of the tangles were pretty tame, too—results from today’s travels, likely—which made Kratos think Lloyd must have figured out how to take care of Noishe, or perhaps Noishe had finally figured it out himself. Either way, it was a relief.

“It’s been a long time,” he said quietly. Noishe whined fondly. “Thank you for taking care of Lloyd.”

Noishe made a string of following sounds that weren’t words, but Kratos understood well enough.

“You… think I should tell him?” he whispered. The idea made discomfort ring through him. He wanted to, but he hadn’t imagined that he _could_. That he was _allowed_.

Noishe’s ears suddenly perked up, but Kratos didn’t need the warning. He heard the approaching footsteps well enough. Hand flying to the hilt of his sword, he spun around and unsheathed it, pressing the blade to the neck of—

Lloyd.

Of _course_.

Kratos lowered his sword, muscles still tense from having to react so quickly, his heart hammering like a drum in his chest. He’d almost cut his own son’s head off. Perhaps he should have reacted differently, but, 4000 years of battle instincts were hard to shake.

“Lloyd,” he said, still surprised at his son’s appearance. He sheathed his sword again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.

Lloyd looked terrified—as well as one should be, for nearly having their head taken off—but he slowly straightened. “Startled isn’t quite the word for it!” he whined, patting at his chest.

Kratos swallowed. “…Best not stand behind me,” he warned.

“Roger that,” Lloyd answered. It was sarcastic, sounding a little offended. Kratos turned back to Noishe. Noishe’s eyes glinted like he was laughing. Kratos glared hard at him.

Lloyd moved so that he was standing next to Kratos, hooking his thumbs through his belts as he rocked back and forth on his feet.

“Sooooo,” Lloyd said, dragging the sound out. “You like animals?”

“Not particularly,” Kratos answered. Noishe was the only one he’d ever been remotely fond of.

“And yet here you are with Noishe,” Lloyd said, cocking his head in Kratos’ direction, eyes glinting. Everything about his tone and posture suggested he was making some kind of accusation.

Kratos tried not to flinch under it, keeping Lloyd’s gaze as he countered: “He’s a very interesting creature.”

“I’ll give you that,” Lloyd replied, with a shrug. Then his attention pulled to Noishe, eyes going wide. He laughed like he was surprised. “Hey, he even seems to like you!”

“Really?” Kratos answered carefully. He looked at Noishe as well, and was a little annoyed to see the Protozoan trying to poke his head out of the stable to get more pets. Kratos sent him a very stern Look. Noishe sent him a returning look that was just begging him to tell Lloyd the truth.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Lloyd continued, “he usually doesn’t like strangers.”

“Would the fact I fed him back in Iselia have anything to do with that, perhaps,” Kratos said.

“Hmmmmmm.” The note Lloyd hummed as he thought it over was familiar, and Kratos’ heart ached for Anna. “Maybe?” Lloyd answered finally, and Kratos had to force himself to hear it. “I don’t think it’s worked before, but then again I don’t think anyone else has tried. I’m glad he likes you, though!”

“Yes,” Kratos said, distracted. Noishe’s eyes could have drilled holes into him. Finally, reluctantly, Kratos turned to consider Lloyd. The weight of the truth he held back was heavy in his chest.

But he supposed… telling Lloyd the truth wasn’t _exactly_ out of the question. He could easily just be a mercenary who also happened to be Lloyd’s father, he didn’t have to explain everything else. (He wouldn’t even know where to _begin,_ explaining everything else.) Except…

Except…

How much worse would the end of this journey be, if it was Lloyd’s father who betrayed them, and not Kratos the mercenary, the angel in disguise?

 “Wh- what?” Lloyd asked, drawing Kratos out of his thoughts. “Why are staring at me like that?” Lloyd’s eyes burned up at Kratos from behind his stray tufts of hair, discomfort written clearly in them. He fidgeted anxiously where he stood.

Kratos let his gaze slide away from Lloyd. Nervousness bubbled up in his stomach, and he felt self-conscious in ways he hadn’t since those early days with Anna. He was terrified of saying the wrong thing. Terrified of Lloyd reacting… badly, to the truth. Lloyd was already happy without him.

Besides, maybe it was better if Lloyd didn’t know.

“Your swordsmanship still needs work,” he said, instead of any of the million things he wanted to say, instead of any of the million things he was too terrified to say. “You should spend some more time refining it. I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt.”

(That was the closest he could get to telling Lloyd he loved him without actually doing so.)

Nervous and pretty certain that even that had been the wrong thing to say, Kratos avoided Lloyd’s gaze and hurried back into the inn.

 

 

The next morning, Lloyd ran off ahead, with Colette and Genis and Noishe all following gleefully behind. Kratos was pretty sure Lloyd was heading the wrong direction. He sighed, not sure if he was exasperated or fond. Raine, who was walking at pace with him, made a similar sound.

“This will be a burden,” he remarked to her.

“Yes,” Raine answered without hesitation. Her sharp eyes watched her brother. “But… somehow I don’t think it was a mistake.”

Kratos considered that. Considered how much happier the Chosen seemed to be, now that her friends were with her. Considered the tension that was absent from Raine’s shoulders, today. She seemed more at ease, with her brother around, which Kratos understood well. He would have never dreamed of splitting Martel and Mithos for longer than a few days—he remembered well how insufferable they got when separate, but then… That had been his life for the past 4000 years, hadn’t it?

At any rate, he wouldn’t have wanted to separate the Sage siblings, either, though he barely knew them. Raine may have wanted to keep her brother safe, and maybe the journey would have been easier without him, but… It wasn’t like traveling with bratty little brothers was anything Kratos was unused to.

It was traveling with Lloyd, his son who he’d thought dead but was in reality very much _alive_ , that Kratos was sure he could never get used to.

But he couldn’t say he regretted it, either.

“You’re right,” he told Raine, with a smile. “This wasn’t a mistake at all.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Perspective](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15880719) by [ghastlygrimoire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghastlygrimoire/pseuds/ghastlygrimoire)




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